Authors: Richard Laymon
THE GUNSLINGER
“Lester, how nice that you could make it. Helen told us you weren’t feeling well.”
“I took a nap after she left. Felt a lot better when I woke up, so I figured I might as well come on over.”
“Can’t keep a good man down,” Dale said.
Lester smiled.
Good man, my ass. Who does she think she’s kidding? She
hates my guts.
“Helen’s around here someplace,” Dale said. “She’ll be so surprised to see you.”
“Won’t she, though?”
His sarcasm seemed to anger Dale. Her mouth tightened. He smiled.
Who’s she, anyway? Helen’s friend. An enemy.
Probably knows all about Helen and Ian.
Everyone
probably knows, he thought. They probably encouraged it, too.
Lester’s such a loser, after all.
“The bar is out on the patio,” Dale said, her voice cold.
“Thanks.”
In the living room, Lester scanned the crowd. He saw a man dressed like a seaman, a couple of hobos, a guy in armor with the
visor down, and many others.
There! There she is! Wearing her goddamn poodle skirt!
He made his way toward Helen and bumped into someone with a glass in each hand. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“No harm down.” A hideous mask muffled the man’s voice. “Nothing spilled.”
Helen saw him. At first, she looked shocked. Then angry.
She broke away from a small group and came toward him, her eyes narrow, her lips pressed together in a tight line.
Lester smiled. “Surprise,” he said.
“What in God’s name are you doing here?”
“You know how I love these faculty parties.”
“I know how you
hate
them. What’re you doing in that stupid tie?”
“I know how much you like it.”
“You look like an idiot.”
“So what?”
“You’re embarrassing me. Why don’t you just leave now, okay?”
“Can’t leave yet.”
“Need to humiliate me a little more? These are my
co
you moron.”
“Before I go, I want to finish things between us.” Grinning, he patted his holster.
She looked down at it.
And at the revolver it held.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Helen said. “You brought your
real
gun?”
He smiled. “Can’t be a cowboy ‘less’n I got the pig iron on my hip.”
“That thing had better not be loaded.”
“How will I shoot Ian if it isn’t loaded?”
She sneered at him. “You’re not going to shoot anyone and you know it. You haven’t got the balls. You’re a gutless wonder.
You always have been, always
will
be. That’s the problem with you. You’re a fucking
wimp
.”
“Think so, huh? Well, we’ll see about that. Where’s lover-boy?”
“For God’s sake, Lester. You’d better cut this out and leave before you get yourself into some real trouble. You want to end
up in prison?”
“Where’s Ian?”
“He’s not here.”
“You’re lying. I saw his Jaguar out on the street.”
“He’s not here,” she repeated, this time using her firm tone, her teacher voice.
“Don’t worry,” Lester said. “We’ll find him. Then we’ll all have a quiet little talk. Then I’ll put a bullet in his head.
See how much you wanta fuck him when his brains are blown out.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“If I am, you made me that way. Let’s go find him. And don’t try to cause any trouble or the first bullet’ll be for you.”
THE FIGHT
Walking through the living room with a drink in each hand, Ian couldn’t find Janet. Lester, in a big hurry to get somewhere,
bumped into him, but Ian managed not to spill the drinks. Curious, though, he watched Lester rush across the crowded room
and confront Helen.
Who didn’t look very happy to see him.
She seemed to be giving him a rough time about something.
On your high horse with your husband? You’re the one sleeping
with one of your students, you bitch.
Shaking his head, Ian turned away and saw Dale sitting alone near the door. He went over to her.
“I don’t know how she puts up with him,” she told Ian. “Insufferable.…brat. He’s a brat. A cowardly, whimpering brat.”
“Lester?”
Dale smirked. “Who else?”
“Ah. Well, maybe he has his reasons.”
“I expect behavior of his sort from a child in a classroom, but heavens, Ian, from an adult?”
“Have you seen Janet anywhere?”
“Janet? Oh, she must be around here someplace. I’mcer-tain she isn’t the type to go sneaking off. Besides, I’ve been at the
door the whole time. I just can’t get over that man,” she muttered.
I feel sorry for the poor bastard, Ian thought.
But he kept silent, knowing such a comment wouldn’t be appreciated by Dale—or by just about anyone else on the faculty, for
that matter. They all considered Helen to be a highly talented professional married to a guy who just couldn’t get it together.
“Guess I’ll go look for Janet,” Ian said.
“She might be in one of the restrooms.”
“Thanks.”
“Somebody!”
Ian jerked his head toward the hallway. Susan Parsons was rushing forward, the cardboard chimney jumping around her.
“Somebody help! A fight! In the bedroom!” She flapped an arm behind her, pointing down the hall.
Ian ran. Susan was blocking the way. He turned his shoulders to leap between her and the wall and got by without knocking
her down. Then he was in the master bedroom.
It was Janet on the floor, arms up, trying to ward off blows from the growling, half-naked woman straddling her hips. Tangled
hair hid the face of the woman, but Ian knew it had to be Mary. Her nightgown was torn from one shoulder. A breast, dislodged
from its bra, swayed and jumped as she swung her fists.
Ian grabbed one of the red-stained arms and twisted it behind Mary’s back. Using her arm for leverage, he forced her to her
feet.
“Somebody take her,” he snapped, and shoved her away.
Ronald Harvey stepped out of the group in the doorway, his visor up, a look of shock on his face.
Mary ran to him, her loose breast leaping. She threw her arms around him and blurted, “Take me home! Take me home right now! It’s all your fault! You had no
right
to dump me for that skinny bitch!”
Ian pulled off his mask. Wiping the sweat off his face, he knelt beside Janet. She was sprawled on her back, crying.
“Get out of here!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Everyone out!”
A few people turned away. Others stayed, peering in through the doorway. Ian sprang up, rushed to the door and shut it. Then
he returned to Janet.
Her cheek was scratched and bloody. Her nose and lips were bleeding, too. She sniffed.
“You,” she said.
“Me?”
“The guy from the football game.” She sniffed again and licked some blood off her upper lip. Then smiled.
SHOWDOWN
Lester knocked lightly on the bedroom door.
“Who is it?” The voice sounded angry.
Lester didn’t answer. He opened the door, pulled Helen inside by her elbow, and took a final look down the hall. Nobody seemed
to be watching. He shut the door.
Ian was coming from the bathroom with a dripping washcloth in one hand. He glanced at Helen and Lester, then knelt over the
girl.
“I have a few things to say to you,” Lester said.
“Fine.” Ian didn’t look up. He continued to clean blood from the girl’s face.
“Look at me when I talk to you!”
“I’m busy right now, Lester. Why don’t you save your talk for another time?”
“Ian,” Helen said, “you’d better listen to him. He has a gun. He’s planning to shoot you.”
This time, Ian looked up.
Lester drew the revolver from his holster and pointed it at Ian’s face.
“What the hell’s going on?” Ian asked.
“He knows about you and me,” Helen said.
“You and me?”
“He knows the whole thing. I’m sorry, Ian. I…I told him last night. I was angry and upset and I told him.”
Ian began to stand up, face calm, eyes steady.
Lester felt fear crawl into his stomach. “Stay down!” He thumbed back the hammer. “Stay down!”
Ian stood up straight. “What is all this, Lester?”
“He knows you’ve been screwing me,” Helen blurted.
“Is that what she told you, Lester?”
“That’s it.”
“
I’m
screwing her?”
He nodded.
“And you believe her?”
“Ian, for God’s sake, be man enough to admit…”
“Shut up!” Lester snapped at her. To Ian, he said, “Yeah, I believe her. I guess I do. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Why
should
you?” Ian asked.
“It figures, that’s why. She sure as hell isn’t interested in
me
, and you’re the most likely candidate. Besides, she confessed. Why should she lie?”
“You’d better ask her about that.”
“Don’t listen to him, honey.”
Lester glared at her. “Shut up.”
She called me honey? Man, I must really have her scared.
“Ian’s trying to trick you,” she said.
“And I said to shut up.”
“He’s making a fool out of you.”
“I’m not interested in Helen,” Ian said. “I never have been. I think she’s a cold and arrogant bitch, her career has gone
to her head and she has weaknesses of character that make her unfit to be either a teacher
or
a wife. She’s barely fit to be a human being.”
“You fucking bastard!” Helen spat at him.
“He sounds pretty sensible to me,” Lester said.
“Don’t be such an asshole!”
Lester turned the pistol on Helen.
Her face blanched. She began to shake her head in tight, trembling nods, but her eyes looked scornful. “Don’t you point that
thing at me,” she whispered.
“Tell me the truth,” he demanded. “Have you been
doing
it
with Ian?”
“Stop pointing that gun at me.”
He shoved the muzzle closer to her face.
“Have you?”
Looking him hard in the eyes, she said, “No. I haven’t beeen ‘doing it’ with Ian. Okay?”
“Who then?”
“No one. I made it all up.”
“Lying bitch! I want truth! Who’s fucking you?”
“Nobody.”
“I happen to know different.”
“Oh, yeah? How?”
“Stains.”
Her face went scarlet.
“Tell me whose,” Lester said, “or I’ll blow a hole through your face!”
“We only…we hardly…”
“Who?”
“Charles. You know. Charles Perris.”
“Your
student?
The poet?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been
making it
with one of your students?”
“Yes! Okay? Damn it, I needed
some
one. I had to have someone.”
“And that was the best you could do, huh?” Lester pointed the pistol at the bridge of her nose. “Say your prayers, Helen, you’re
about to meet your maker.”
“Please!”
An arm swung up. Ian’s. It struck Lester’s wrist with a hard, numbing blow. The pistol jumped free and dropped to the floor.
Lester started to reach down for it, but Ian stepped on the barrel. “Just leave it.”
Lester rammed his shoulder into Ian. The tall man staggered, his foot coming off the pistol.
“Don’t!” Ian warned.
Crouching, Lester reached for it. His hand closed around its grips.
Then he cried out as Ian stomped on the revolver, mashing his fingers against the floor.
“Get off!” he cried out. He looked up at Ian in time to see a fist swing down at his face. The blow knocked him to his knees.
The crushing pressure left his fingers. He pulled his hand out from under the pistol.
Ian had him by the shirt collar. Lifted him. Dragged him to the bed and threw him onto it.
“Stay there.”
The bed felt good. Lester knew he’d been defeated: tricked and humiliated.
Not by Ian.
By Helen.
Doesn’t matter. I’m done with her. The hell with her. Fuck
her. Never want to see her again, the filthy slut.
Then he rolled onto his side and threw up.
THE PARTY’S OVER
Turning, Ian saw Helen staring down at the revolver on the bedroom floor.
“You can leave, now,” he told her.
“He tried to kill me,” she said, her voice quiet as if she were talking to herself, trying to understand a twisted puzzle.
“He really tried to kill me.”
Ian picked up the pistol. With his thumb, he lowered the hammer to half cock. Then he flipped open the side port and gave
the cylinder a spin.
“It isn’t loaded,” he said. “Lester didn’t want to kill anyone. No ammo. See?”
Helen stepped closer. She pulled the weapon toward her, turning Ian’s hand, and scowled at the empty holes as Ian spun the
cylinder.
“No bullets,” she muttered.
Ian watched her step toward the bed. She moved slowly like someone in a trance. For a long time, she stared down at her husband.
She shook her head slowly. “You miserable piece of shit,” she said. “Didn’t even have the balls to load the fucking gun. You
worthless…”
“Take off, Helen.”
She snapped her head toward Ian and fixed him with fierce eyes.
“Take off,” he repeated. “I’ll take care of Lester. Don’t you even think about calling the police. If they get in on this,
I’ll tell them all about you and Charles.”
For a moment, he thought Helen might try to attack him. Then the rage seemed to pass from her. She walked to the door and
left.
When she was gone, Ian knelt beside Janet.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Not too bad, I don’t think.”
“Sorry about all that. Something always hits the fan at these parties. Usually nothing like this, though. Cat fights and gun-toting
cowboys…”
“
Cat
fights?” Janet asked.
“Bad choice of words. Sorry about that.”
“I didn’t start it, you know.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
Janet sat up, holding the washcloth to her face. “I’ll be black and blue for a month.” She wanted to smile, but knew it would
hurt.
“Anything feel wrong inside?” Ian asked.
“I don’t think so. I was afraid…she’d do something to make me miscarry.”
“You’re pregnant?”
Janet nodded. She could feel his concern for her.
“That crazy bitch,” he muttered.
“What’d she think,” Janet asked, “I was horning in on Ronald?”
“Guess so.”
“He’s not my type.”
“But it did look like you were with him,” Ian said. “He had his hand on you. I was starting to feel a little jealous, myself.”
Her heart speeded up. She felt heat rush through her body.
“
You
going with Ronald, too?” she asked, trying to smile. “He’s a popular fella.”
“I don’t care for him much,” Ian said.
“Oh.”
“But I care about
you
, which is pretty weird.”
Oh, my God!
“Not that weird,” she told him, staring into his eyes. Her lips felt dry. She licked them.
“We just met,” Ian said.
“How long is it
supposed
to take?”
Ian’s face turned crimson. “I guess first sight can do it,” he said.
Did he just say what I think he said?
Heart racing, Janet said, “Looks that way.”
Ian grimaced, smiled, shook his head. “Anyway,” he said, “maybe we’d better get out of here and take you to an emergency room.”
“Yeah as to getting out of here,” she said. “No as to the emergency room. I’m okay. Just a few scratches and bumps.”
“But if you’re pregnant…”
“I feel fine. Really. Except for my face. Why don’t we just get out of here?”
Ian helped her to stand. After she was up, he still held on to her arm.
On the bed, the man named Lester groaned.
“What about him?” Janet asked.
“I’m not sure. My Jaguar only holds two.”
“I’ve got a Maverick.”
Ian hesitated.
“I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “Really.”
“Okay.” Ian stepped to the bedside. He put a hand on Lester’s shoulder and gently shook him. The shut eyes squeezed tight.
Then one opened.
Lester groaned. “Huh?” he murmured. “What?”
“Let’s get you out of here,” Ian said.
“Huh?”
“We’ll drive you home.”
“Home? No. Haven’t got one.”
“Somewhere else? A motel? A friend’s place?”
“Emily Jean’s.”
“What?”
“Take me to Emily Jean’s house.”
“Mrs. Bonner?” Janet asked.
Lester nodded.
The teacher I’m subbing for? The one whose daughter got attacked?
“Maybe we’d better phone her first,” Ian said. “She was absent today, so she might not feel up to…”
“S’okay. I gotta key. I’m staying at her place. Take me there, okay?”
Ian helped Lester to sit up. Then he turned to Janet. “That all right with you? Emily Jean’s house is only a couple of miles
from here.”
“Fine. Let’s go.”